Starred Review Three sisters sneak out for a nighttime adventure in Sardà's fantastical picture book, which taps into the wonderous imagination of childhood and hints at what lies beyond. The girls are lounging about their room one night when Franca, the blonde-haired eldest, convinces them to follow her into the woods to search for a queen who she dreamed was hiding in a cave. The girls creep outside, where they are soon met with incredible sights and sounds. A stream of night creatures moth with wings like tapestries, a large owl, and little sun-headed beings waving matchstick torches shes overhead, ultimately sweeping the sisters along with them. Sardà unleashes a phantasmagoric blend of beauty and eeriness in her intricate, antique-hued illustrations, which show the girls taking tea with a spider, marching in a rat's funeral parade, and pushing through a colony of hanging bats before finally arriving at the cave. The wildness of the journey teeters between being a wonderful dream and a nightmare, and that keeps the tale supremely exciting. The cave holds more than one surprise, making this more than just a daring night out. Indeed, when the youngest sister asks if it's all a dream, Franca replies "'I'm not dreaming. . . . In fact, I'm more awake than I've ever been.'" An unforgettable story that will leave readers with their eyes wide open.

Franca and her younger sisters, Carmela and Tomasina, do everything together, so when one day Franca gets a "funny feeling," Carmela and Tomasina decide that they too feel strange and follow her confident lead into the unknown -- perhaps to find the "queen in the cave" of Franca's dream. Into the woods they go, where the familiar world turns strange and the forest creatures -- ants, caterpillars, moths, snails -- become huge, surreal, and exotic. "Are we dreaming now?" Tomasina wonders. "I'm more awake than I've ever been," Franca answers, and when the girls arrive at the queen in the cave (to discover that she's a wilder version of Franca), it's she alone who stays for the party. In imagery reminiscent of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Sarda poignantly evokes the moment an eldest sister pursues a way her sisters can't go, a moment of growth and change that's reflected in the flamboyant, stylish disorientation of her illustrations. Appropriately, the book brings picture book and short story together; it's a work on the cusp, as if its very mode connotes transition.